


Mine

by kelios



Series: Playing with Fire [2]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Breathplay, Hair Pulling, J2, Jealous Jensen, M/M, Topping from the Bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 21:04:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11677044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelios/pseuds/kelios
Summary: Jared's a friendly guy. Jensen knows that, but that doesn't make it any easier sometimes.Sequel to Every Breath You TakeSet during the July 2017 Date Weekend--story here: http://thunderroad84.tumblr.com/post/163735824479/nothingidputbeforeyou-jensen-and-jared-out-inI've decided to turn this into a series. I'm not sure how many more I'll post, but probably at least one more after this one. If anyone has a kink they'd like to see showcased, feel free to mention it in the comments and I'll give it some thought!





	Mine

Jared grins, gin and Jensen singing in his blood. He rides his rented bike in a wobbly circle around Jensen, singing under his breath _gin and **Jen, gin** and Jen_ , trying to get a smile out of Jensen. But Jensen doesn’t crack, and after a few minutes Jared gets off the bike and just pushes it alongside Jensen, trying to figure out what went wrong. They’d been having a great time, or so Jared had thought--drinking and laughing with fans, taking turns on the bike, just relaxing and enjoying their first taste of real freedom in months. But something had gone wrong, and Jared’s thoughts are too scattered to figure out what it could be. 

They make it back to their apartment in record time, Jared locking the bike to the rack with slow, clumsy fingers while Jensen waits, impassive. Still, Jared feels a hint of relief--if Jensen were really angry, he’d have gone upstairs without him and left Jared to pick up their spare key from the desk. Jared risks a glance over at Jensen where he’s leaning against a pylon, waiting and watching. Jensen looks hot as hell, even though--or maybe _because_ \--he’s pissed. Jared sucks in a quick breath, his cock taking a sudden interest in the fact that Jensen is half hard in his jeans, and the possibilities of that begin to filter past the alcohol fogging his brain. His mind flips back to the previous weekend, and Jared is suddenly very motivated to get to their apartment and find out what Jensen has planned. 

“You done?” Jensen’s voice is flat, hiding his anger from anyone who doesn’t know him as intimately as Jared does. It turns Jared’s stomach inside out at the same time that arousal flares along every nerve. He wants this, he’d _begged_ for this, and now he’s definitely going to get it. 

“Yeah,” Jared says, standing up a little unsteadily. Jensen doesn’t offer to help, which makes Jared even more pleased that his voice doesn’t shake. “Let’s go.” He hopes like hell he’s reading this right and Jensen isn’t really angry, but he trusts his husband. With a deep breath, he follows Jensen into the elevator and watches quietly as the numbers tick over. 

There’s a faint tremor in Jensen’s hands as he unlocks the door to their apartment. It steadies Jared’s nerves a little, this reminder that they’re both learning as they go, racheting up his anticipation. He follows close on Jensen’s heels, expecting to get slammed against the door as soon as it closes, and Jensen doesn’t disappoint. He’s in Jared’s space, shoving him hard against the wood before he can even turn around from locking the door. He catches the faint scent of wood and paint for a brief moment before Jensen’s hand is in his hair, craning his head back at a nearly painful angle. 

“You want to tell me what the _fuck_ that was all about, Jay?” Jensen’s breath is hot on Jared’s neck, one hand in his hair and the other gripping Jared’s hip tight enough that Jared knows he’ll have bruises tomorrow. The surge of blood to his dick whites out his brain for second and all he can do is moan, hips grinding against the door and back against Jensen where he’s pressed hot and thick and hard against Jared’s ass. He doesn’t answer, too caught up in the shock of pain and pleasure and the need to process what Jensen is saying. 

Jensen growls, his fingers tightening in Jared’s hair. Sharp, bright spikes of pain and pleasure ripple through Jared, the nerves singing from his scalp in a hot line straight to his dick. He writhes against Jensen in the space he has, already begging for more, and he feels Jensen hesitate, assessing. “Stay still,” he growls again, and works his hand between Jared and the door, his hand sliding right into Jared’s loose fitting jeans to wrap rough and dry around Jared’s cock.

“You think she was _gorgeous_ , Jared?” Jensen asks, low and dark, working Jared’s dick just the right side of too rough. Jared cries out from behind gritted teeth, drawing a harsh laugh from Jensen. “Maybe she’s cold and needs another hug.” Jensen eases his grip on Jared’s hair and Jared’s knees nearly buckle at the rush of blood and endorphins. He whimpers and Jensen laughs again. “You think she knows what you need?”

“Jen--” Jared’s head spins with arousal and need. Jensen has to know, right? That he would never turn to someone else?

Jensen yanks Jared’s head to the side, the surge of pleasure from his abused scalp enough that Jared’s vision sparkles with the agony of not coming instantly. Jensen’s lips press against the long line of Jared’s throat in reassurance before his teeth sink into the slab of muscle between Jared’s neck and shoulder, and Jared cries out again, raw and desperate. 

“You think she could give it to you?”

“No.” It’s barely a sigh, but it seems to satisfy Jensen. He takes a step back, giving Jared room to breathe, room to think. 

“Clothes off. Now.”

Jared shudders at his harsh and unforgiving tone, fingers shaking as he works the buttons on his shirt. He doesn’t turn around yet, doesn’t think he could manage at all if he actually looked at Jensen right now. He hears Jensen undressing behind him and quickly kicks the rest of his clothing aside before turning to face him.

As always, Jared’s husband takes his breath away. Jensen’s leaning against one of their leather armchairs, wide and sturdy, one they’ve put to good use over the years. The heavy muscle he’s put on in the last year slides deliciously under his skin when he shifts, a heady reminder of what he could do to Jared if he wanted, and the position he’s taken accentuates the bow of his legs and the thick meat of his thighs, frames the long, thick swell of his cock. Jared licks his lips, wondering if Jensen will let him taste, or if he should beg for it. He’s on the verge of going to his knees right then and there, can almost feel the burn of the carpet from crawling on bare skin, when Jensen interrupts his thoughts. 

“Sit,” Jensen tells him. His voice is flat again, the overt anger from when he’d pinned Jared against the door tamped back down to an undertone. Jared walks slowly to the chair and stops with Jensen’s hand on his chest. Jensen kisses him, gentle and sweet, before letting him drop down onto the cool leather. He settles himself across Jared’s thighs and takes Jared’s face in his hand, drawing Jared’s eyes up to meet his own.

“You remember the word?” he asks, not quite stern.

Jared nods, the feel of Jensen’s thumbs sweeping delicately over his cheekbones contrasting surreally with the sharp throb in his neck and the dull hum in his scalp. “Impala,” he whispers, and doesn’t miss the slight shiver that traces up Jensen’s spine. Jensen kisses him again before he picks up Jared’s hands and places them carefully on the arms of the chair. There’s a bottle of lube in the chair’s side pocket, and Jensen leans forward to retrieve it, briefly enveloping Jared in the spicy-sweet scent of sweat and cologne. His lips brush Jared’s ear, sending a thrill of anticipation dancing over Jared’s skin and making his cock twitch eagerly, but Jensen doesn’t bite down. 

“No touching,” he whispers instead, and Jared bites back a whimper of disappointment. “No moving. And if you come without permission, I’ll get you hard again and keep you that way until morning, then ring you and drag your ass to work with your dick on display.” Jared moans, hips bucking up against Jensen, and Jensen laughs darkly, fondly, before sitting back and opening the bottle. The clear liquid trickles out over his fingers and drips onto Jared’s aching dick, cool enough to make Jared hiss at the shock. It warms quickly as Jensen strokes him teasingly, fingers lingering on his glans and tracing over the thick vein on the underside. He moans deep in his throat, fingers digging into the leather armrests, trembling with the need to push into the heat of Jensen’s hand, his body. 

“Good boy,” Jensen whispers roughly, eyes hot and dark. He licks a bead of sweat from Jared’s throat as his thumbnail digs into the weeping slit of Jared’s dick, dragging another ragged moan from him. “So good for me, Jay.”

As painfully good as the exquisite torture of Jensen’s hands on him is, it’s worse when he takes them away. He holds Jared’s gaze as he coats his fingers again, reaching back to slot them deep into his own body. Jared knows he’s still a little loose from earlier, from when Jared had fucked him hard and fast in the bathroom at the club. The fans they’d done shots with had smirked openly when Jensen dragged him away, and their knowing looks when they came back had made Jared want to take him into the back and do it all over again. Or maybe bend him over the bar and fuck him then and there, give them all a show and make sure they all knew that Jensen was _his_ and no one else’s. Jared puts all that heat, all that dark, possessive need into his expression, cracked wide open for Jensen to see, and Jensen’s breath stutters as he pulls his fingers free and reaches for Jared again.

They both groan as Jensen sinks down onto Jared’s cock, fresh sweat springing up on Jared’s face and throat as he desperately tries not to move. Jensen doesn’t stop, doesn’t give himself time to adjust, just splits himself wide open in one long, smooth push that leaves Jared gasping with the strain of staying still. 

“Fuck, that’s good,” Jensen pants, head falling forward to rest against Jared’s. Jared can’t help the sound he makes as Jensen clenches around him, tight wet heat squeezing his dick perfectly, dragging him right to the edge. Jensen’s hands trace the muscles of Jared’s stomach, circle the tight, hard nubs of his nipples, and Jared shudders in anticipation, breath coming in short, harsh pants. But Jensen doesn’t pause to tug and pull and tease, just skims past to settle around Jared’s throat, thumbs stroking the damp hollow at the base. His hands don’t close but Jared feels light headed anyway, swallowing hard as he stares up at Jensen wide-eyed. 

“Do you think she’d do this for you, Jared?” Jensen asks conversationally. 

“No.” Jared forces the word out, feeling his throat move under Jensen’s fingers, his cock jerking hard inside Jensen. Jensen’s grip tightens, thumbs pushing in, Jared choking as his air disappears. 

“Do you _want_ her to do this for you?” Jensen’s fingers tighten again as he whispers, the smooth muscles of his thighs working to drag him slowly up the length of Jared’s dick before dropping back down hard and fast. 

Jared arches underneath him, lungs struggling for a breath he can’t quite catch, lips moving soundlessly _no_ and _please, Jensen, please_ , pleasure and desperation exploding through him. Jensen’s eyes never leave his, even when his hands loosen suddenly, moving to slide into Jared’s hair instead. Jared gasps in a deep, shuddering breath, then loses it again as Jensen’s fingers dig into the sweaty mess of curls his hair has turned into and _pull_ , pain and pleasure driving into him like a physical blow. It’s all he can do to keep his hands locked on the chair, blanking out as his body twists and arches without his control. He comes back to himself with Jensen stroking his hair, eyes warm and concerned. Jared gives a shaky nod and Jensen leans in comfortingly for just a moment. Then his eyes harden again. 

“That’s what I thought,” he murmurs against Jared’s ear. “You’re _mine_ , Jared. No one else’s.” 

Jensen lifts off him again, this time putting his arms on Jared’s shoulders for leverage, letting his hole tease the head of Jared’s cock. He squeezes Jared’s hair again, wave of hot pain flowing through Jared’s scalp to mix with the exquisite pleasure of Jensen slamming himself back down onto Jared’s lap in one quick move. Jared cries out, digging his fingers into the arm of the chair so hard it creaks, but he manages to keep from bucking up into the tight heat of Jensen’s body.

“Good boy,” Jensen praises him, panting harshly, and kisses Jared deeply as his fingers loosen in his hair. The rush of blood back into the sensitized nerves drags a moan out of Jared and Jensen squeezes again, counterpoint rhythm with the flex of his hips. “So good for me, baby boy.” He moves faster, fucking himself on Jared’s cock, finding his sweet spot and riding it hard as he slowly pulls Jared’s head back with the force of his grip. Tears run down Jared’s face as he thrusts mindlessly to meet Jensen, both of them too close to care that he’s breaking the rules. “Come for me, Jared,” Jensen finally whispers, and lets go of Jared’s hair to fist his own cock with one hand, the other dragging Jared into a messy kiss. Jared comes with a shout, the rush of endorphins and his orgasm crashing through him in wave after dizzying wave of intense pleasure. Jensen clenches around him hot and wet as he comes and Jared shudders helplessly underneath him as he comes again, pleasure and pain bleeding into each other in a seemingly endless cycle. 

When Jared opens his eyes again, Jensen is kissing him, sweet, tiny kisses that fall on his lips and eyelids and cheeks. 

“There you are,” he says tenderly, reaching out to stroke Jared’s hair back from his face. Jared hisses involuntarily at the touch, then grabs Jensen’s wrist when he pulls away, thumb stroking gently over Jensen’s racing pulse. 

“S’okay,” he says, a little groggy but still smiling. “Just a little sore.”

Jensen kisses him one last time, then lifts himself up carefully. They both wince a little as Jared’s softening cock slips free, and Jensen holds out his hand to pull Jared up onto sex weak legs. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up and tucked in,” he says with a yawn, and Jared follows him to the bathroom and to bed. 

“You know I’d never do that, don’t you?” he asks, head on Jensen’s chest. “It was all just part of the game?”

Jensen kisses the top of Jared’s head, then tilts his face up. “I trust you, always,” he says softly. “And I still want to kick the ass of anyone who looks at you for more than three seconds or whenever you touch someone.” 

Jared laughs, surprised by Jensen's intensity. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he says coyly. “But I can’t make any promises…”

Jensen smiles contentedly, pulling Jared closer. “That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear.”


End file.
